


retrograde

by nova_solo



Category: Adam Driver - Fandom, Marriage Story - Fandom, Star Wars
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nova_solo/pseuds/nova_solo
Summary: charlie barber au - (enemies to lovers trope)you and charlie had history. you both went to acting school together, there was undeniable chemistry you couldn't deny. dating until graduation, you both suddenly parted ways and married strangers who never felt like they were the right fit.now rivals with opposing theatre companies, charlie was your major competitor when it came to any type of awards, journalist reviews or even hiring actors to star in your new plays. your love that was once there now turned to hatred, trying to edge your way in front of mr barber and his theatre company that was rising in the ranks, just like yours.it wasn't until one night when he took in one of your plays, where you had to fill in for the lead, that your eyes met in the darkened audience. a sudden reconnection, unlike any other, made you cease up on stage. sure you crossed paths at award shows, but this time it was different. he was alone.you couldn't help but want to reach out and reconnect with him, dive headfirst into the life that was now broadway director, charlie barber.THIS IS A READER INSERT !THIS BOOK HAS HARDCORE, HEAVY AND SOMETIMES BRUTAL SMUT.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. introduction.

Introduction. 

you and charlie had a complicated history that changed constantly like the wind. both of you attending the same acting school when you were younger and spotting each others potential from across the room. you fell madly for him, and he for you. but then graduation came, and you both went your separate ways into the world. 

keeping short tabs on him over the years, you liked his wedding photos as he did to you, and you congratulated him and nicole on the birth of their son. everything changed when you decided to move back to new york to try and save your drowning marriage. starting up your own theatre company, you began to become noticed within the industry and the media. and so did charlie. 

from lovers in youth, you became rivals in your early adulthood. both of your theatre companies gaining status and popularity, you were each others main competitions. crossing paths now and again at award shows and conferences where you would exchange sarcastic smiles of power and hatred. 

it wasn't until one summer evening where your lead fell sick suddenly and your understudy was out of town. you were forced to use your acting degree and fill in as the main part, halfway through performing you spotted him, in the darkened audience, studying your every move. but something was different about him, he was alone. 

-

!! THIS STORY HAS GRAPHIC SEXUAL SCENES AND FOUL LANGUAGE !!

if this makes you uncomfortable then please down read ! there will be warnings in chapters with heavy or brutal smut. 

these specific warnings include: 

-dom/sub

-powerplay

\- lack of aftercare 

\- spanking/slapping 

-choking

\- hair pulling 

\- orgasm denial 

-degradation 

\- public sex (a lot) 

\- crying (we an emotional horny bitch) 

\- alcohol consumption 

\- mention of past drug use 

\- thigh riding 

\- daddy kink 

\- finger sucking 

\+ many more 

if any of these topics make you uncomfortable or you're not at a mature age to be reading this type of content, then please think carefully about reading ! 

all that's left to say is that i hope you enjoy it ! message me anytime you want, if you want me to read some of your own fics, i would be over the moon to ! we support each other here ! 

lots of love, hugs and kisses, speak soon ! 

amelia 

xx


	2. grumpy beginnings

TW: mention of death

"is that okay?" 

you were quickly pulled out of your mental analysis of the wallpaper that was directly above your head as mark was hesitantly pushing into you. his face being pulled into focus and the swirls and spirals of light blue pattern formed into a blur of vast ocean. he had sort of a reluctant drive plastered across his face. arms either side of you, trembling and unsteady, he changed into a spooning position before you could even give him a definite answer back. 

"yeah, its..nice"

your focus was now on your clock that was positioned facing you on the bedside table. 6am. mark had a funny thing about only having sex in the early hours of the morning. it didn't use to bug you as much, waking up to hot, steamy sex was any wives dream. but now it felt like a chore, tossing and turning each night, waiting for him to just blow his load so you could take a shower and get out of the apartment into the fresh and rejuvenating city for the day. you could see your reflection in the blackened crevices of the digital clock, looking beyond you, his eyebrows were burrowed and his mouth was ajar, you knew he was close. you threw out a few expressionless moans to finish him off. 

"ohh fuck-" 

swiftly pulling out of you and gasping for breath on his back, you dragged the duvet around your body and got up from the bed. you needed to be changed and dressed within an hour. you had auditions with your theatre company today, and it wouldn't look so great if the director of a new and up and coming play was late because her husband couldn't finish quick enough. mark was lying limp on the mattress, one hand under his head. he followed your gaze as you stumbled quietly to the bathroom. 

"honey, did you finish?" 

your arm was on the frame of the bathroom door as he caught you just before closing yourself within a room where you could let the water steam away any of your martial worries and inflictions for the day. turning your face, a delighted, fake smile bounced from the crevices of your lips. 

"of course" 

before you could give him time to respond. you shut yourself in the bathroom. removing the duvet from around your waist, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. you were tired, exhausted even. not from lack of sleep, but from the dead-end life you were living. sure you had your theatre company that was gaining success here in new york, you had a few close friends that you went out for fancy cocktails on rooftop bars with on weekends. but you didn't have a spark within your love life. the light was fading away between you and mark, and it was coating you in a slick of darkness that left you gasping for a breath of freedom. 

you and mark had met soon after you graduated from julliard. you hadn't stayed in new york for your early twenties, but instead decided to relocate to california in the hope of creating a successful acting career on the west coast. you both auditioned for the martial roles in the pilot of a new dystopian tv show. once you both bagged the roles, you spent every waking minute with each other, reciting lines, fucking in your trailers, getting high on the san francisco bridge. you used to feel alive, invincible. mark used to be something out of your wildest dreams, he rode a motorbike to work every morning, brought you your favourite sesame seeded bagels and coffee and even took you home to his parents house multiple times for thanksgiving. so when he proposed on pier 39 surrounded by the twinkling lights of winter, of course you said yes. your fairytale childhood had come true and you felt like your life had finally given you what you deserved. 

it was all until the tv show got pulled that you felt like everything wasn't falling into place. mark became lazy, spending most days and nights with his ass permanently glued to the couch, beer in one hand and tv remote in the other. he had no drive, no creative ambition. you were left floundering in search of work to benefit the both of you. just as you believed the weight on your shoulders was going to crush you into the ground, you got a phone call from your brother to explain that grandma was in the hospital and you needed to get back to the east coast to say your final goodbyes. selling your apartment in san francisco and saying goodbye to your agent, you and mark flew to new york in less than a week. you sofa crashed at your brothers place, while juggling with the search in finding a new home and a new job. all while mark sat back, and carried on his mundane life of tv football and coors lights. 

finding a decent sized place in brooklyn that stretched your finances to the last cent, you moved in and began work on making what once was the city where your heart grew, a new home. you did most of the work, choosing the colours for the walls, painting murals on vast ceiling spaces in your free time. you needed to let your creative passion flow somehow while you were still jobless and relying on loans from your parents. you painted the blue swirls above your bed to remind you of freedom, that you were sailing on an ocean in you were the ruler in where the tide took you.

it wasn't long after you got settled that grandma died, your heart broke and you didn't leave the apartment for a month after her funeral, mark tried to comfort you by buying you bagels and coffee but they were the wrong kind and he never realised. he tried to job hunt, finally settling for a communications intern position at a newspaper firm, you hated how he threw away his talent so recklessly. he was once an amazing actor that was now taking orders from gen z mangers on what kind of milk alternative they liked in their iced coffees. he was trying, you gave him that much. but he was still never there. his daily routine would be to release his tension with you in the morning, get ready for work and then hit the bar and come stumbling back in at 3 am, to which he forgot his keys, every single time. passing out in his suit still and smelling of beer, the snoring would become unbearable and you usually resided to sleeping on the couch until the rising sun woke you up to a new day of repeating the same excruciating cycle. 

it wasn't until grandmas will passed your way that you sensed a glimmer of hope in your future, leaving you most of her finances and jewellery, you saw a light in a dimmed tunnel that had been keeping you hostage for years. your brother inheriting her house in new jersey and her old ford mustang, you wanted to use what she left you to make her proud. finding an old theatre space, you decided to make an offer and put your degree to good use. you set up 'retrograde&co' and went to work building up your directorial career. you always liked directing but never thought you were passionate enough to pursue it in your early twenties. now as your life was slowly passing you by, you took the leap in which your grandma would have wanted you to. after all she was your biggest fan, she paid for your collage tuition and came to all your performances, especially the ones that were directed by him. 

charlie. 

charlie was your first real love and the only one she ever approved of. you both attended juilliard and were partnered together in your first class. spotting each others potential through the first reciprocated set of lines you were tasked to perform, you spent most of your study hours and weekends together. whichever play was up and coming, you would both audition for. around school you were known to get the leads and charlie was known to always direct. you were a team. it wasn't till annual christmas leave when the snow was too heavy for either of you to catch a train home that you spent the winter days and nights together in his dorm. he would show you old films that inspired him to get into the world of creative arts and you would mockingly reenact them while wearing one of his oversized shirts. he was your first for everything. first kiss, first time and first heartbreak. after graduation, you begged him to join you on the west coast but he always portrayed a hatred towards LA and its surrounding places. you knew you had to let him go and it was the hardest decision of your life. 

you kept tabs on him over the years through facebook, and even received an invite to his first play, then first award show and then to his wedding. a small piece of your heart couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you decided to stick around? would you be with him instead of nicole? would you be his muse, his prodigy in which he based his immaculate plays around. would you both have had a child and taken him to the movies in a small aching of hope that he would follow in either his fathers or mothers footsteps. your mind was built on what ifs. and those what ifs, were too late. you would look through the screen at the life they were living and ached for something more. posts surrounding their family game days, charlie's birthday, in which you always reached out and even silly selfies when nicole was cutting their hair. you wanted a family, a life. you wanted more than the facade in which tricked you into a hopeless marriage in which mark gave you. 

pulling you back into the moment of your day, you turned off the hot water and ringed your hair until it lay damp on your collarbones. creeping past mark who had apparently drifted back off to sleep after using you this morning, you pulled out your outfit for the day. a pair of generic black jeans, graphic tee and checkered shirt would do. pairing the leather belt with some leather boots, you accessorised with a few rings and necklaces that used to be grandmas. drying your hair loudly in order to pull mark into a state of drive for a busy monday morning, it was useless. he groaned at you to be more quiet before rolling over and placing a pillow over his head. you glanced down at your phone, it was nearly 6:40 and the subway ride took at least 15 minutes to reach the theatre. playing with the end of your hair to add a small amount of curls to the lifeless split ends. you grabbed your notes, resumes of the acts and laptop. placing them in your work satchel for the day, you didn't even bother to tell mark you were leaving or give him a kiss goodbye. you just silently left the apartment as if he didn't even realise you were there in the first place. 

the subway ride was hectic, having to cower under an extremely large sweaty office worker for fifteen minutes wasn't how you envisioned your first hour of a very busy week. finally someone was kind enough to offer you a space in their seating and you grabbed at the offer with zero hesitation. plugging your headphones in and playing some bowie to drown out the wheels breaking and scraping along the tracks as well as the murmuring of passengers, you analysed the resumes for actors that were auditioning for your first debut play that was going to be unveiled in a few weeks time. it was a quick turn around, but with your popularity rising, you were bound to sell out and have a few journalists take in your performance. you always grabbed a few newspapers with the theatre reviews in for tips and insights. thats when you first saw his name again. 'charlie barber releases spectacular and thought provoking play, selling out across the board'. you remember keeping that newspaper as some type of momentum when you first arrived back in new york. it kind of drove you to be like him in a way, to follow your passion. that was all until one evening mark decided to do a bit of spring cleaning ad threw the newspaper on the fireplace, and with the burning of the paper, your ties to barber went up in flames too. 

you and charlie had sort of turned into rivals, as the headlines liked to call it. you always seemed to be begging for the same actors to fulfil your wildest imaginations and it was a fight to over who could secure them with a stable pay check and the acting experience first. you hadn't bumped into him recently, but always remembering the first time you saw him after settling in with your new company. it was at a small screening of one of your favourite films; breakfast at tiffanys. playing in the back of your local coffee shop you arrived a little late and missed the first ten minutes. sneaking in and sitting in the back, you saw him. his raven hair fell just above his shoulders, legs crossed in a pair of straight legged denim jeans paired in a shirt and cardigan to match. he looked so grownup, his notebook was wide open as if he was analysing the different shot types and taking notes that he could bring back into his own company. pen raised, just brushing over his lips as he thought with such concentration. you noticed his wrist was wearing something familiar however, he was wearing the watch. it was your leaving present to him before moving. it belonged to your grandfather who charlie loved to visit in order to quiz and question him on how movies were shot from the beginning. in some way, you thought he looked to your pops as his own father, taking him under his wised wing and explaining and expanding the way in which charlie saw his world. emotions overflowed that day and you couldnt bare to stay till the end. you left before he had even noticed you.

your stop was grinding into the station and you couldn't wait to grab your first caffeine hit for the day. bustling past city workers to and fro, you scanned your metro card and walked the stairs into the downtown streets of the city, you walked with a sort of spring in your step while 'modern love' permeated your eardrums on full volume. you felt almost free when wandering around your home, without the shackles of mark. he always hated this city, and it took some convincing for him to even move back here with you. he was never one to catch a quick subway train to central park or the brooklyn bridge, he only knew work, bar, home. 

pulling you back into the world, the steaming noises coming from various espresso machines numbed out the bowie on your iphone. there wasn't much of a wait until the barista rung up your usual mocha with extra chocolate dustings and you stood idly waiting for it to be made. pulling one headphone out for reassurance, you heard the barista not call out your order, but an order for 'barber'. 

you spun around, heart racing, bound to lock eyes onto a man that you hadn't seen in years, but only through a phone screen or a font on paper. 

it wasn't him however. 

an intern ran past you, and grabbed the eight orders of drinks before thanking the barista and shooting off down the street. you knew in your gut that they were for him and his team, but you wished for a split second that he was the one to pick them up himself. 

he consumed your everyday life. you didn't know how or why, but you didn't exactly put a halt to your thoughts about him. you let yourself stay awake at night wondering what his sex life was like, what his home life was like. it had been years and years since your eyes had locked onto his, but he hadn't left your mind once. charlie barber consumed your thoughts, and you let him.


	3. reconnected contacts

you arrived at the theatre with a few extra minutes to spare, running to the bathroom to dab your armpits dry from the brisk paced walk past endless blocks that left you sweating at the brow and checking your lipstick hadn't smudged all over your teeth and face; while wiping the spillage of coffee that didn't quite make your mouth.

you felt a vibration erupt from your bag, fiddling around with your fingers past receipts, gum wrappers and extra tampons your thumb and index finger grasped hold of the silicone case. pulling it out through the mess of your contents, the light shone bright as your eyes met with the sudden notification message. you already were rolling your eyes thinking it would be mark asking you to pick up another pack of coors on your way home from work. happened every monday, it used to be a couple, but then it turned into a crate. lugging the 16 bottles for a fifteen minute subway ride and 10 minute walk was not the highlight of your long evening. at least you were able to pick up a new packet of cigarettes. you took up the habit of smoking when you thought the world was sitting dead centre on your chest. and you felt that pressure, all the time. 

it wasn't mark however. but your friend jasmine, you had kept in touch since graduating, always saying you would meet up but giving each other empty hope in actually doing so. you were never close to her, he took up most of your time, but you were always fond of the way she pronounced each syllable, took the audiences glares with confidence and fit into any costume desirable for the role. you knew the real reason why you had always dodged her call or read her message but took a day or two to respond. it was because she had just joined his theatre company. not being passive aggressive to her but in defence of your own ego, you felt so blind to let her talent slip through your fingers and end up in the hands of him. it made you mad, you knew her first, not him. you introduced her, you made the faint line of connection between them. 

"heard you're staying in new york for good? any chance you're free tonight? would love to catch up finally!" 

your thumb hesitated and hovered over the digital keys. you knew that if you said no, you'd be lugging those said crates home, cooking some bad ready meal, running over staging, costume and lighting and eventually passing out on the couch, only waking to marks constant drunk noises. 

"that's correct ! i am free ! any place in particular?"

you finally let yourself go, you said yes. not thinking of the consequences. mark would have to cook his own meal, remember his own keys and grab his own fucking beer. as soon as you hit send however, your feelings were rushed with duplicity. one half was ecstatic to finally get out, breathe and let your hair down. the other half was suffocating the other with paranoia; what if he gets mad again? or forgets his keys? what if you come home late and he isn't even there, and everything of his is gone? would this push to self identity drive him over the edge? you shook the thoughts out of your head, mark had been a constant part of your life for nearly 7 years and you always thought of him with any action you did. what you wore, what you ate, what type of lingerie you'd buy. it was his approval you were after all these years, the approval that you were still worthy of loving, still worthy of fucking. sure it wasn't making you happy, you could admit that, but it was making him smile. and thats all you wanted, for him to still love the awkward woman with the coffee stained shirt that he met in the small casting studio. 

"i know a nice rooftop bar on 37th? meet me there at around 7?" 

"sounds lovely ! see you soon !" 

a small smile began to creep into the corners of your mouth. you'd finally branched out and let yourself say yes to plans that didn't involve mark bragging about his job or forgetting to tell your company that you had been married for nearly 3 years instead of 2. shoving the paranoia and dread to his reaction to your flimsy last minute decision into your gut as well as the phone, you dropped it back into the pit of your tote. fixing your loose strands of hair one last time before breathing in an out, you took a deep breathe and left the comfort of the small dingy bathroom and into the world in which you had to direct an entire team into seeing the vision that had kept you up for countless nights. 

-

"no, no again please. maybe with a little less movement in the body and more within the emotion?" 

you were feeling drained. you were sure the actors you had hired were more than capable of carrying out the intricate emotive repercussions the protagonist was facing in her self monologue of the play. but it just wasn't clicking. 

"more emotion within the eyes? uh-" 

you felt guilty for confusing the cast. staring back at you with numbed faces it made you fill with an overwhelming sense that directing wasn't for you, that you should have just quit altogether. you didn't know how to direct a team, what were you thinking? you couldn't even tell your own husband to pick up his dirty underwear or clean a dish without a muffled whisper of a voice just in case he raised his back at you. 

"uh sorry guys my heads a bit clouded today" 

looking down at your watch it was almost 6:45, deciding on the final props and costumes had taken up most of your day, along with a few filing and financial paperworks that had to be completed. your eyes were baggy, hair in knots and fingers endlessly shaking from the caffeine that had been fuelling your empty stomach along with a pack of gum all day. 

"why don't we call it a day? its nearly 7, and its a monday. i think we can all agree, we all fucking hate mondays" 

without another minute passing by, members were passing you small recognitive smiles and pats on the back before bidding you a goodnight. you had around 10 mins to get to 37th but luckily it was only a few blocks away. folding up a few iron chairs, stringing up various backstage ropes and switching off the endless stage and back lighting that cost you a fortune, you took out your set of keys that had only one prominent keychain on it. it was a bottle opener, with 'the big apple' plastered across with a small 'love from c x' engraved onto the back. you had always told yourself you didn't keep it for sentimental value. you didn't keep it because he knew you loved tacky tourist gifts, you just kept it for practicality, that's all. or that's what you had been trying to convince yourself. 

-

you got to the front of the bar just as your hand of the clock hit 7. waiting patiently outside you looked around and saw that you were here before jasmine. looking in the mirrored glass of the building you subtly tried to fix your hair while the rush hour traffic of people trying to make it home to their families glided and hit you accidentally as they passed you by. you looked presentable, enough? having been awake from the crack of dawn and had a less than eventful day trying to showcase your play that was opening too soon to even think about, jasmine would have to take your rugged appearance as it was. 

you felt the gentle touch of fingertips on your shoulder. 

spinning round so fast it was enough to give you head rush, jasmines bright eyed smile was beaming at you. she was just as you had imagined, perfect and poised. her honey dew complexion and highlighted raised cheekbones somehow radiated its own light source of youth. her beige freckles scattered all across her face like an intricate roadmap and her tight knitted curls were placed perfectly in a low bun, shimmering all the tones of browns and subtle blondes that were corkscrewing out of her head through perfection. she was wearing a basic turtle necked sweater that she pulled off to the highest 'vogue' standard while displaying a matched nude lipstick that caressed her lips and indents like it was made specifically for her. 

"long time no see sunshine !" 

sunshine. 

it tugged on your heartstrings, you hadn't heard that nickname for nearly 4 years and it made your tears begin to build. you thought a piece of your identity had been stripped away after leaving new york, believing that memories of you and the city would fade and dissolve in the minds of the people that helped you create them. 

embracing you in a genuine hug of comfort, you inhaled her perfume that smelled of a summers morning and the faint condensation of a recently settled rainy afternoon. she smelt like freedom. like she could toss her hair and laugh at jokes, she could switch up her subway route to take in more of the city, like she could stay out till 4 am and come home to a quiet apartment without a worry or care rattling around in her brain. 

you so desperately wanted to feel like that again. 

"hi ! you look amazing, i am totally envious !" 

the people pleaser in you began almost immediately, not relishing in the moment of requited platonic affection without the dread of paranoia or judgement setting in. she smiled at you and took your hand in her perfectly manicured set and pulled towards the revolving doors. 

"oh shush! i just came from rehearsal so excuse the hagged appearance, come on lets get some drinks in us ! it's been too long !" 

accepting her hand she dragged you into the building and all the way up to the rooftop bar that was firmly lit with candles and scattered with what felt like an entire botanical garden. the rest of the light radiating from the cities electricity, the bar was filled with multiple businessmen and colleagues relaxing their ties and unbuttoning their suit jackets after a long day at work. 

-

you had devoured an entire cheese board between you and three red wines before the small talk began to change and shift the mood into more deeper and intrusive questions about each others lives. 

"so how's life !" 

the question you always hated to answer, dreaded to answer even. 

"oh its here and there, marks fine, theatres fine, just trying to get everything ready for opening night that is creeping even more further in the calendar ! but how- how are you ?"

you looked down at your now fourth glass, swirling the rouged liquid around the transparent glass, your head beginning to feel fuzzy from the lack of suspense and ambient lighting that was pulling you in to its own tranquil euphoria. 

"it's going okay ! just moved in with my girlfriend, heidi, she works in accounting, she's the smart one. work is fine, its acting so i really can't complain and charlie is amazing at his job" 

you looked up, glaring straight into her deep irises. 

"charlie?" 

she burrowed her brows at your confusion or intrusion to subtly ask her to talk about him without giving into the satisfaction of asking her how he was so plainly. 

"yeah charlie, he's been in new york for a while, moved to LA for a year and then has come back to us" 

you kept nodding, not really hearing or seeing anything she was saying, but could feel your heart grow warmer at how you liked hearing his name. 

"he asks about you too, you know?" 

you gulped down the last of the red, trying not to choke on the inquisition that had just been proposed onto you. 

"r-really?" 

"yeah he always asks if i'm going to catch up with you, and i always invite him but he doesn't want to intrude. but maybe i could give you his new number? and you guys could come here some time? without me..." 

you could sense that jasmine wanted you to reconnect a flame, but you both couldn't of course, you were both married, happily? now that was the question. 

"oh- um i don't know mark-" 

"what about mark? can you not have an old friends phone number?" 

she was questioning your personal life now, and you weren't drunk enough to go into that downward spiral of regretful decisions that held its grip around your throat too tightly. 

"yeah, um sure i'd love it"

without a second to spare, she had taken your phone and made a new contact. before being able to grab out your card, she had paid for the bill and was getting ready to leave. the elevator ride was full of men and the dual suppression of trying to hide drunken giggles was barely an ability. 

hitting the cold new york evening air, your face became flushed. eyes beginning to water and nose inhaling the cold with every breath in. embracing you in another comforting hug. 

"i'll be sure to give charlie your number tomorrow, get home safely, see you soon okay? we'll have to make this a regular thing!" 

and without a second to thank her she hailed a cab flawlessly and slipped into the back. bidding you a goodbye with a perfect smile and delicate wave, you trudged the endless blocks home, settling for the cool air of the night instead of the stuffy sweaty constricting scent of the subway. 

-

you hadn't realised you were totally fucked until walking up the flights of stairs to your apartment. tripping every so often up the wooden stairs and laughing to yourself at how foolish you were, you began fumbling with the door lock, trying to get your keys into the rusted hole. before you could be successful the door opened with a force that pulled you from a sluggish state into one where your eyes were wide and alert. 

"you're home late, and you smell of alcohol" 

mark gave you no hug, no kiss, no welcome home. just the back handed annoyance that he had to spend an evening alone and fending for himself. 

"yeah i'm sorry, i went for a couple of drink with jasmine, i haven't seen her since school and she was coming back from work as well" 

no response. 

just a grunted noise that erupted from his mouth as he slumped back onto the couch where he was watching sports in complete darkness. settling your phone and tote on the side, you climbed over the arm to kiss his cheek. 

"i'm gonna go get ready for bed okay?" 

no response. again. 

closing yourself in the bathroom, you stripped and, pulling on your night satin that was draped over the hook on the back of the door, you messily tried to somewhat complete your skincare routine before brushing your teeth and washing away the aftertaste of alcohol. dabbing your face dry, you suddenly heard a tapping on the door. washcloth still in had you opened it. 

mark was standing, blocking the doorway, with your phone between his fingers, subtly moving it to and fro, while his eyebrows raised in question. 

"who's charlie?"


	4. flower.

TW: domestic abuse, mention of mourning 

"who's charlie?"

he repeated his question after you stood there shocked, trying to compose yourself while he spoke his name. you didn't think he was even worthy to mutter a syllable of that man's initials, let alone his whole name. you were fuelled on alcohol alone. 

"shouldn't i be the one asking you the questions? like why you took my phone?"

he was walking into the bathroom now, shutting the door behind him like an invisible audience would be blind to his actions you were sure he was going to commit. 

"drinking always makes you a sarcastic bitch. what are you hiding from me hmm?"

his hands found the sink behind you, locking you within his space, you were trapped. his height aided the dominance, towering over you, it made you become small and weak. like someone had drained all the confidence from two minutes ago into a dried up puddle gasping to be quenched. 

"nothing. he's an old friend" 

you looked away from him as he was trying to analyse the change in emotion that your eyes were trying hard to not encapsulate. you weren't lying, you did consider him to be an 'old friend'. but 'old friends' didn't have the history you both had. 

"no. you're fucking lying. he was the one you had drinks with tonight wasn't he?"

you looked back at him, mouth agape at the statement that had drawn him to a malice conclusion. tilting his head slowly, you felt his breath become staggered and fists beginning to form on the counter beside you. 

"no, i told you i met up with jasmine-"

before you could explain yourself anymore, he grabbed your cheeks within his palm and squeezed until you winced in pain and your jaw popped open, leaving your mouth a jar, you were exposed to the rage of his final descent. 

"you fucking liar. you think i don't know when you lie? it's written all over your face, even when i said his name for the first time it was like you jumped out of your skin"

"please- i didn't see him"

he slapped you hard against the side of your face that you fell to your knees, you hadn't seen this side of him for years. the last time he lashed out like he did was when you made fun of his 'performance' in front of his work colleagues. the moment you were back home he made you regret your sarcastic humour. leaving you in a pair of sunglasses for a week, telling employees it was a longing migraine and that your turtle necks, covering your bruises, were because you always 'felt a draft'. 

he was hovering over you as you scrambled to try and stand back on your feet, but his hand found your shoulder and suppressed any type of freeing movement. lowering down to your eye level know, he clumped a fistful of hair into his hand, and hit your head against the bathroom sink cabinets. you cried out in pain, your head was already spinning from the consummation of alcohol and now a potential concussion was on the rise. your eyes were disorientated, trying not to believe the side of him that you were seeing again. you had pushed that memory down so far that you thought nothing could uncover it again. 

"you're such a fucking whore you know that? staying out late, 'drinking with friends', wearing the outfits you do, don't you have any respect for yourself? for me? you're pathetic" 

you could smell the beer on his breath. 

he only ever got this angry when he was drunk, you knew this wasn't the real him. you knew this wasn't the man that took a subway down to your favourite thai place when you were ill to pick you up some of your favourite food, to then get confused at the way home and apologised over and over that it was cold. you knew it wasn't the man that held you day and night after your grandmas funeral, helping you wash and dress. this wasn't him. this was only a temperamental blip. something that could be easily fixed. 

"please- mark you're hurting me" 

his other hand was wrapped around your neck and in his fury of rage, was squeezing tighter and tighter with every syllable. you felt your face and cheeks go red, the heat rose to your brain and you felt like your eyes were popping straight out of your skull. you wondered if he'd stop after you told him but you also wondered if those were the last words you were to speak before passing out because of his brute enraged anger. 

something clicked in him and he stumbled back from you. a glimmer of his past self was trying to escape, shouting and kicking at who he had become. looking at himself for a ardent minute in the mirror, it was like he was questioning everything he had just done to you, and realising this wasn't even the first time. 

he didn't help you up, or apologise. just threw your phone on the tile and slammed the door behind him. you heard the coat rack tussle in frustration and the front door opening. he'd gone. never said a word. just degraded you and left you a crumpled and worthless mess on the floor. 

but then you wondered for a few seconds, before crawling over to pick back up your phone. tears clouding your eyes, you saw you had one new notification. swiping immediately, you thought it must be jasmine making sure you got home okay. not knowing you'd be safer on the streets of new york, than your confined four walls. 

but it wasn't jasmine. 

'sorry it's late, but jasmine passed on your number and i was wondering if you had any free time soon to catch up maybe? completely up to you, no pressure. good luck with your opening night, c x'

you read over the message over and over, and your rapid thoughts about marks safety and whereabouts somehow had faded into the back of your mind. reading each and every word, glimpsing at the small kiss he had signed off with, leaving his initial like he used to. always being polite, never commanding, letting you make your own comfortable decisions. a part of you wished he was free right now. and the drunken haze that was holding you in a coma decided to hit the call button. 

it picked up almost instantly. 

"hi" 

you heard his sleepy voice murmur on the other end of the phone and you could have sworn it cured your headache. he sounded a bit older now but still the same, low and seductive, even when he wasn't trying to be. 

you gasped for a second before deciding wether it was a dumb idea and hang up or actually say hello back. 

"hey" 

"it's been a while hasn't it?" 

you could hear him let out a sigh of relief that you responded, your ears pricking up when you heard a soft chuckle leave his lips and rouse through your ears. you got up now, opening the bathroom door to a pitch black apartment. making your way over to the window, to perch on the ledge and feel the freeing air of the city against your face, you wanted this conversation and moment to last forever. 

"you can say that again, nearly 5 years i think" 

"it's been 4 years and 8 months actually.. since i-" 

you heard him falter. 

since you both parted ways. he knew it was painful for you, you practically begged him to fly to LA with you. you couldn't forget the way you clung onto him, trying to persuade him in any way you could, grabbing at his shirt, kissing his cheeks, trying to pry any sort of yes out of him. while he stood there motionless letting the tears fall from his cheeks as he saw you break below him. 

"so how've you been?" 

he changed the subject rapidly. trying to pull you both away from the hours and months of heartbreak after letting you hands slip from each others touch for the last time. 

you couldn't help but let out a small sniffle from the tears that were still somehow falling from your face, running your hands through the stray and mangled hair after being used by mark, you tried to compose yourself but the words were filled with faltered line breaks and hiccups of a broken voice. 

"oh- y-you k-know great" 

"wait- are you crying flower?" 

flower. 

it was his term for you. ever since your first play, where he embarrassingly threw a rose onto the stage after your bow and it hitting your face, you always liked that it had an inside joke behind it. but you were taken aback, never thinking you would hear it ever again. 

"oh, oh its nothing r-really" 

"talk to me" 

there was a lull of silence on the phone, only hearing each others heightened breathes of reconnection. 

"please" 

there was something behind the way he let out a soft beg, the way he wanted to enter your life in someway, letting him in was the first step to getting him back into your life. but after marks outburst, you were terrified. he only assumed you had seen him, when in reality you didn't, what would he do to you if he knew you had called him in the middle of the night? 

"it's nothing really, j-just mark. b-but nothing i cant handle. maybe another time okay? i- i promise" 

you heard a sigh escape the other end. 

"okay. it's late, i'm sorry if that text woke you up, but i was just hoping you would see it first thing in the morning. but i guess, i can ask you now?" 

"i- i would love to see you, it's just o-opening night is well, today, and i- im busy b-but soon?" 

you glanced down at your watch, noticing that it was 1 am, and you had to be at the theatre for early rehearsal and to prep for your first show. you wondered if he was looking down to see how late it was too, wondering if he was wearing the watch you saw him in briefly at the back of the coffee shop. 

"i still wear it you know" 

he didn't need to tell you what he still wore. you knew immediately, almost as if you questioned wether you had said those previous thoughts out loud and not as a mindful wonder. 

"i still have the keychain" you said in a whispered response. 

you both laughed at the same time as the reminiscent thoughts and memories flooded back into your brain. you sat in silence for a while just listening to each other breathe. it was soothing. mixed with the late night air flooding in through the window, you felt calm, like he aided to dry your tears and soothe the headache. 

"well i should really let you get some sleep, especially with your opening night. just remember-"

"the audience are all fresh perspectives, connect with them all, invoke and touch their own lives through the story" 

he always told you that before going on to perform, you had a bad case of stage freight, but somehow knowing that you could connect with each and every person in a darkened auditorium in a different way each night, made you more excited than nervous to be up on that stage with the lights blinding. 

"seems like you've remembered my teachings there flower. now, get some rest" 

"seems like i have. thank you... for- everything. goodnight" 

"i'll see you soon" 

and with those last words, you clicked to power off, letting your aching back hit the mattress, replaying his sighs, syllables and words over and over in your eardrums until you drifted off into an uninterrupted and comforting sleep. for the first time in what felt like forever. 

and it was all thanks to charlie.


End file.
